


Unexpected Possibilities

by FictionalKnight (Northern_Star)



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-31
Updated: 2008-10-31
Packaged: 2017-10-18 20:33:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/193016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Northern_Star/pseuds/FictionalKnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thanks to <span class="ljuser ljuser-name_capefetish"><a href="http://capefetish.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://capefetish.livejournal.com/"><b>capefetish</b></a></span> for agreeing to beta for me.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Unexpected Possibilities

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [](http://capefetish.livejournal.com/profile)[**capefetish**](http://capefetish.livejournal.com/) for agreeing to beta for me.

Dick took a long, circular look around the ballroom, trained eyes searching for anything out of the ordinary, anything that shouldn't be there; any manner of criminal activity that might have been taking place.

He found nothing of the sort.

Of course not.

Not only was the place crawling with law enforcement officers on account of this being the annual Policemen's Ball, but also because the security in this hotel was as tight as a prison's. The new owner had just had the surveillance systems upgraded with the most high-tech equipment money could buy. And Bruce Wayne certainly had a lot of money to buy things with - especially when it came to security systems. Dick would know.

Bored, he walked over to the bar and asked for a glass of sparkling water. He would have loved to have champagne - or any type of alcoholic beverage, for that matter - but he'd have to be out on patrol in a few short hours, so it was best to stay sober. Running around Gotham in ridiculously short pants and a pair of pixie boots was perfectly acceptable, but showing up for patrol with even just a hint of alcohol on his breath was something Bruce would never forgive.

Momentarily, Dick cursed the man for having forced him to attend this event. He very much disliked being around socialites - he wasn't one of them and would never be. No matter how many more years he spent living at Wayne Manor, no matter how ridiculously rich his adoptive father might be, Dick Grayson would always be a circus kid, born in a family of acrobats. And he was damn proud of that heritage, too - wouldn't have traded it for any of these people's precious heirlooms or trust funds.

Resigning himself to the inevitable hollow conversations that this evening was sure to be filled with, Dick thanked the bartender for his drink and, putting the well-worn mask of pseudo-enthusiasm back on, he turned to face the crowd again.

His face lit up with very real interest when he caught sight of a tall, shapely young woman, halfway across the room. She stood with her back to him - and what a nice looking backside she had. The long, satiny black gown she wore hugged her curves in a most flattering way. Fiery-red hair cascaded over the pale skin of her bare shoulders.

Dick smiled and started walking toward her. Perhaps this evening wouldn't be completely exempt of possibilities, after all.

As if on cue, she spun around.

Their eyes met.

And the glass of sparkling water nearly slipped out of Dick's hand.

He blinked once, and a second time, almost certain that his eyes were playing tricks on him. That wasn't a woman, it was.... Well, of course she was a _woman_ , his stuttering mind corrected immediately, but he wasn't supposed to be thinking of her that way. Except... how could he _not_? She was positively breathtaking!

When, oh when, had _Barbara Gordon_ started looking like this? And how could he not have noticed before?

Oh, he'd most definitely noticed some of her... _attributes_... Skin-tight spandex costumes didn't exactly conceal much of those. But while he had a perfectly well mapped mental image of his occasional crime-fighting partner, he'd apparently missed her transformation from the tomboyish teenage girl he'd always known into the beautiful woman who now stood before his eyes.

Mentally scooping his jaw from off the polished hardwood floor, Dick forced his heart rate back to a normal rhythm, and his expression to aloofness - or a reasonable facsimile thereof.

"Fancy meeting you here," he said, once he got close enough for her to hear.

Immediately on the defensive, she replied, "What's that supposed to mean? Perhaps you don't think I belong here?"

Dick frowned, confused. "Huh? No... No, I didn't mean to imply anything of the sort, I'm just...you know...making conversation?"

He suddenly started feeling incredibly awkward, something which may or may not have to do with the fact that he constantly had to pry his eyes away from her plunging neckline.

"I guess I should be thankful you didn't hit me with some lame pick-up line." Barbara shrugged, mollified, and the shadow of a smile began tugging at her lips.

Dick laughed, albeit a little nervously. "You just narrowly escaped it," he confessed.

After a short, much too uncomfortable pause, he attempted to steer the conversation onto less slippery grounds. "Came with your dad?" he asked.

Again, she immediately went on the defensive. "What? Because you think I couldn't get an actual, real date, or something?"

"No, no," he replied hurriedly. "I mean, yes - yes, I'm sure you could get a date. _Of course_ you could." And before he could think the better of it, he added, "Heck, considering how amazingly well you clean up, I'd have been more than lucky to have you as mine."

A deep blush suffused her cheeks. "You could, you know," she told him, in a shy, hesitant tone. On his questioning look, she confessed, "I came with my dad." Then, suddenly thunderstruck, she added, "Oh, but you're probably not here by yourself, are you? I didn't mean it to sound like I was assuming that you'd be just as pathetically unaccompanied as myself. I mean, technically, I am, but really I'm not and, well it's not that pathetic, is it?"

"Well, if it's pathetic, and I'm not saying it's necessarily the case, but if it is, then I guess this would make us a couple of pathetic losers." A lopsided smile tugging at his lips, he went on, "You know...apparently, misery loves company, so, uh... would you- would you like to dance?"

Barbara smiled and gently took his outstretched hand. "That sounds nice."

As they walked over to where other couples were already dancing, Dick couldn't help but comment, "I can't get over just how... _wow_...you look dressed like this."

A glimpse of mischief in her eyes, Barbara leaned in closer and whispered to his ear, "Just as long as you remember one thing, Grayson: I might be wearing a dress and these ridiculously high, strappy shoes, but I can still _totally_ kick your ass."

Dick chuckled, though he couldn't deny that this was precisely what made her so attractive in the first place. "I'd rather dance, instead," he told her, placing his hand at the small of her back, gently pulling her in a little closer. As an afterthought, he added, "We can settle the matter of who can kick whose ass later tonight, if you like."

"You realize that I'd still be able to pin you to the ground, no matter how late it is," she replied, amused, as they started swaying to the music.

"Oh yes," he whispered in her ear, the warmth of his breath on her skin sending shivers down her spine, "but by then, I won't want to fight you off."

Heart beating wildly, Barbara replied, "I never said I wanted to fight you..."

Dick smiled. The evening definitely seemed full of possibilities now.

> End.


End file.
